PETA is Fine, But Sometimes I Question Their Priorities

Below is an actual email conversation between me and PETA. (FYI: This happened over a year ago and I was going to put it in my book as an addendum to my pets-eaten-by-hobos chapter but it was too long, so if you bought my book just consider this a bonus chapter. Also, if you haven’t read my book yet you probably should because this is going to have a mild spoiler alert. You can buy it here.)

From: David (from PETA.org)

Date: April 12, 2011

Good morning.

I wanted to share some information that I hope you will want to pass on to your readers as Easter approaches. Each year, PETA receives scores of calls of concern about the use of live animals—mainly rabbits, but sometimes ducklings and chicks—as props in Easter photo sessions. Unsuspecting parents and kids might not realize it, but the animals used in these photo sessions are generally terrified and miserable.

It’s a sad fact that many of the rabbits purchased on a whim during Easter time die within months—victims of unintentional neglect and cruelty. Others are abandoned, relegated to tiny outdoor hutches and subjected to weather extremes, dumped at overburdened shelters, or abandoned outdoors, where they are unable to fend for themselves and starve or are killed by predators… …Would you please share this information with your readers? Please let me know if you have any questions.

Best regards,

David

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From: Jenny Lawson

Date: April 12, 2011

When I was little I got a duck from the carnival and he was awesome. His name was Daffodil and he lived in an inflatable raft in the backyard with the cats. He was very happy. But then my mom decided he’d be happier with other ducks because he started to think he was a cat, so we let him go at the lake and then a month later all the ducks were eaten by homeless people who lived under the bridge. This is all true. I think the real problem here is the homeless problem. And by “homeless problem” I mean the problem I have with homeless people eating my pets.

Hugs,

Jenny

Enclosed: A girl and her duck enjoying the sunset on their back porch. Those were golden days, David.

Me and Daffodil. Or as the homeless probably refer to him...Dinner for Six.

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From: David from peta.org

Date: April 12, 2011

That’s quite a remarkable story, Jenny! A few years ago, while with a group helping to hand out food to homeless people outside of a shelter, I found a number of them to be quite kind to a pigeon who showed up with an injured wing. They were also impressed that I had the little guy (gal?) on my shoulder for a bit while I tried to figure out the next step.

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From: Jenny Lawson

Date: April 12, 2011

You’re lucky you didn’t lose an arm because based on *my* experience with Daffodil the “next step” would be the helpful homeless people making a big pigeon cake. Or pigeon sandwich. I don’t actually know how you cook pigeon, David. But what I do know is that homeless people are very sweet until they see your pet duck and then they’re like a bunch of damn zombies. (I assume.) My mother says this is an unfair generalization and she encouraged me to go volunteer at a homeless shelter when I lived in Houston, and the people there were all very nice (except for one schizophrenic guy who had some sort of aversion to wearing pants) but that doesn’t mean I would trust any of them with my wounded pigeon.

PS. I wanted to ask how your pigeon fared but since you didn’t mention naming him I’m assuming that he must’ve been eaten. I once had a live chicken hang out on my shoulder for an entire afternoon so I totally relate to your pigeon story. Her name was Schmalzie Nugget and she was a total bad-ass. Also, she was super heavy so when she finally decided to jump off my shoulder I looked like I had scoliosis. Whenever anyone else would get near us she would peck at their face violently. Her owner tried to apologize and said it was because she was mostly blind and probably thought their earrings were bugs to eat, but I didn’t judge her because any pet chicken who fights off being eaten by homeless people long enough to go blind is a goddam hero. She was like the Chuck Norris of chickens.

PPS. Here’s a picture of me with Schmalzie:

It’s a camera phone picture. We’re not normally that fuzzy in real life.

****

From: David from peta.org

Date: April 12, 2011

Apparently, our homeless guests were satisfied enough with the vegan food that we had bestowed upon them! There was at least one other time when I was out when I came upon a bird in need. Very strange. (And several other cases when I rescued some, including a seagull who was in the median at the top of a fairly busy bridge near our headquarters. I chased that one across the oncoming-traffic lane below the top, wondering if I wouldn’t get hit in five seconds. I did capture the poor thing and we went to a wildlife rehabber’s place.) That other time, someone discovered a baby at the bottom of the building that we were in front of. We figured there was a nest up above outside of one of the windows. Who knows!

I took those all to wildlife rehabbers or some such people.

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From: Jenny Lawson

Date: April 12, 2011

I tried eating all vegan once and I literally thought I was going to die by the 5th day. That’s the one where you can’t eat anything but air and boiled cabbage, except on Friday when you can have a banana, right? That is a harrowing diet. Those homeless people were probably just too weak from hunger to go after even a wounded bird. Weak and gassy. That’s a terrible combination.

But ignoring all that, did you say that someone discovered *a baby* at the bottom of the building you were in front of? Because that is insane and you should lead with that story. Were you in front of a convent in the 1960’s? Because if so, that sounds like an awesome made-for-tv-movie that should star Valerie Bertinelli and I want to hear more.

PS. My husband just informed me that I’ve mistaken the apparently-totally-healthy vegan diet with the rather-dangerous-and-somewhat-stupid cabbage soup diet. I should probably just erase that whole first paragraph but I’m leaving it just in case you’ve been considering going on the cabbage soup diet. Avoid the cabbage soup, David. You will never stop farting.

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From: David from peta.org

Date: April 12, 2011

Ooh–by “baby,” I was still writing in the context of the aviary world!

I’ve not done much exploration with cabbage. It sounds like I should keep from doing so. I actually just had a dinner of nachos–much tastier than air!

~David

At this point I decided to make David my new best friend for being so awesome and asked him if he’d be okay with all of this appearing in my book. He never responded again. Probably because he was eaten by homeless people. It happens way more than you think. Also, I donate (non-duck) supplies to the homeless and am a card-carrying member of PETA so please don’t yell at me. Except technically instead of sending me a card they always send me magazines, but no one understands you when you say you’re a “magazine-carrying member of PETA.” That sounds fucking ridiculous.

In short, I support homeless people, ducks and their right to eat each other. I understand the circle of life. Just not when it involves my Daffodil.

Daffodil Duckling in happier times. He owned the only pool on our block and you can totally see it in his smile.

PETA used to come to my collage and hand out stickers and other promotional items. So me and my friends would get as many stickers as we possibly could. Why? Free stickers. Although there was that one time my best friend wanted to impress this girl so we got all the PETA stickers, condiments, and free pens we could, and then went to her room at 4am and tried to give them to her. For some reason, she was less then pleased.

I love how you can TOTALLY make fun of PETA and they don’t even know. Waiting very (im)patiently for your book from my local public library. Shout out to GTPL. Love the site. Thanks for the laughs, I really need this some days.

Thank you for adding this story! Daffodil was damned cute, and I had a moment of silence when I read your book for her tragic ending in a hobo’s stomach. And by moment of silence, I mean my mouth was shut long enough to swill my beer.

PETA was the one to initiate this conversation?! Have they actually read any of your writing? Because they missed all the warning signs that the conversation was not going to end up with you issuing a warning about photographers abusing ducks and bunnies.

I once tried to kill pigeons in Milan Italy by covering aspirin with chocolate. It didn’t work.. There are still pigeons in Milan…also, it was all because of The Last Supper…the picture, not the meal. it’s actually a long story

So what does PETA think of your dad the taxidermist, a donkey crowded into a car and then taken into a bar, not to mention all the dead animals you have featured on your site? If someone was given a dead animal at Easter then none of that other stuff would happen is what I’m saying and, really, no homeless people would want to eat squab stuffed with sawdust.

Our family cat (and most neighborhood cats) was eaten by Vietnamese refugees who also liked to collect worms. Those two fact may or may not be related. Either way, I hope Zipper was god damn delicious!

Daffodil looks so happy in that picture. So unaware of the existence of homeless duck-eating people.
Happier times indeed.
I once had a bird that died of a heart attack when she thought the cat would eat it. Silly girl, there was no way the cat could open her cage. Apparently she didn’t understand the whole opposable thumbs thing.
Her boyfriend stopped singing that day. The bird boyfriend’s, not the cat’s. Why would my cat’s boyfriend even sing?

I once had a duck named Baby Huey. My dad used to raise ducks when I was little, and one time for, some reason, there was an egg hatching in a washtub in the kitchen. My parents told me not to peek under the towel so I promptly peeked and became a duck mommy at 3 because I was the first face he saw. Baby Huey followed me everywhere and we were BFF’s for like a year and then my dad decided that a one year old duck following me around 24/7 was somehow detrimental to my health so Baby Huey went away (probs my dad gave him to a homeless person for dinner) and my dad bought me a sheep instead. (Not kidding. My parents were weirrrd beyond all measure.)

Also, I always got colored chicks and bunnies for easter but we kept them all and they were always happy. But I totally understand how not everyone’s dad is nicknamed “Old McDonald” for his animal collecting tendencies.

Daffodil is adorable… I also support homeless people but PETA kills more animals than they save so I question their priorities, too. As an animal lover I do not think that they should be consulted on anything to do with animal rights or lives. They wanted to put the former M. Vick or I’d rather call them V dogs to sleep. These 51 dogs have become real ambassadogs, 8 are therapy dogs, many are living in homes with other dogs,cats, and children. (Read the Lost Dogs book by Jim Gorant).

I, too, used to have a pet duck! Her name was Ducky, and she was a Muscovy duck. We raised her when her mother was killed by something on my cousin’s farm. She was only about a day old. She made it almost to her first birthday and then was torn apart by raccoons. 😦

I can totally understand what that PETA guy was saying and its too bad he didn’t write back about being in your book. I once was given a guinea pig by an old boyfriend and I kept it because I really liked him (the boyfriend. The guinea pig was a girl) and I named her Ophelia. But then he started sleeping with another girl (boyfriend not guinea pig) and I didn’t want Ophelia anymore. Also, my bedroom was infested with flies. So I drove her to the humane society and I used the carpool lane since me and Ophelia made too. I can only imagine what they did with her and I’m sure its possible she made it to the dinner of a homeless person.

Hmm. I’m thinking now, the homeless equivalent of PETA will be coming after you. Wonder if they’ll be as awesome as the PETA guy.

But anyway… what I really want to know is… how did you celebrate your awesome showing on the New York Times list?!!! So very happy for you. I bet your editor practically screamed with happiness when she saw the list.

David had no idea who he was up against. I’m in the middle of the book now and it’s absolutely fabulous…. but not as in the British comedy. I never got that. The title to the tv show was a real misnomer for me.

My Stepfather brought home and hatched duck eggs when I was a kid. There were three ducks. They lived in the shower in the basement until they got pretty big and then my stepfather got the brilliant idea of letting them live down by the lake at the bottom of the hill that was our backyard. Thing is, they never wanted to stay by our house and went a couple houses down to some folks who had a very expensive dock. Those people called yelling that there was now duck poo all over their dock and demanded either we come clean it up or they would sue us. THAT was a very long summer… I spent several weekends cleaning duck poo off of the neighbor’s dock.

Eventually someone from the other side of the lake called and said the ducks were nice and fat and could they please catch them and eat them. I was absolutely APPALLED when my stepfather told them to go ahead and EAT Huey, Dewey and Louie (no, I’m NOT kidding… and it’s extra sad because I think all of our ducks were actually lady ducks).

Also, about 3 weeks after our ducks had been someone’s dinner, the neighbor called telling us their dock needed cleaning again… turns out you can’t tell wild duck poo from domesticated duck poo and I remember some very “colorful” words being exchanged when they called my stepdad a liar. *sigh

I dunno, is it better having your duck(s) eaten by homeless people or people who have enough money to own lakefront property? Neither sounds optimal. Especially if you’re a duck.

I once raised some chicks in my dtr’s bathtub. She had terrible dreams that they were eaten by a bunch of tiny black birds and then she had to help me build a new enclosure for them but it was gonna suck and she was trying to tell me that but i wouldn’t listen b/c I was talking to “Grandma Goose”.
So I hear you.

Cute photos of you with the poultry! I used to be hardcore against keeping pets that weren’t the traditional domesticated cats and dogs until we started raising monarch butterflies (to release) because of our son’s allergies. We even kept one that couldn’t fly as a pet. My son named it Darth Butterfly and it lived for nine weeks on our coffee table drinking Gatorade. We just had another one emerge from its chrysalis today with a malformed wing, and I suspect we’re going to be dishing up the Gatorade again.

PETA would hate me, even though I used to go through Nordstrom’s putting their “You asshole! Do you know this make-up was shoved up a guinea pig’s anus before you bought it” stickers all over the mascara when I was a teenager. That is because we ate one of our pet ducks. Even though we aren’t homeless. I guess that makes it even more inexcusable. He was just sitting in my yard, bleeding and I was told I would have to nurse him all winter in the house in order to make him well. I don’t mean breastfeed. I mean tend to medically. It would be sick to breastfeed a duck. I guess I should stop now. Anyway, we killed him so it’s good PETA doesn’t contact me about promoting their cause to my readers. Most of my readers of zombies anyway.

OMG…I read about Daffodil and was really sad for you and for him…I love animals of any kind, and I have avoided getting chickens for eggs because I also have dogs, that would love said chickens, and I don’t need the kids or myself traumatized because (even penned) the dogs would probably give the poor birds heart failure (which is why I also don’t have a parakeet, cockateel, or canary).

All I can say is that animals are not disposable like paper plates…which is why I have 7 dogs.

My sister and her best friend adopted two ducklings on a whim. My nephew named on Poop and the other was named Simon, by her friend’s son. All was going well in the lives of Poop and Simon, until Poop murdered Simon. My sister went to feed them out day, and Poop was standing on Simon’s neck, flopping his wings triumphantly. It’s safe to say, if Poop had sharper teeth, he would have eaten Simon….

My sister and her friend decided they couldn’t live with a murderer, so they dropped Poop off at a lake to fend for himself. Here’s hoping the homeless do not try to eat him–Poop won’t go down without a fight.

David from PETA is quite the sport. I’m amazed that he never responded about being in your book, because LOOK HOW FAMOUS HE WOULD BE NOW! Instead, he’s just on the Internet where all of your fans who read your book are also reading your blog and so I guess he’s just as famous as if he were in the book…Damn, there goes that “neiner neiner” moment…

c) PETA isn’t awesome. The dogs that they “rescue?” They kill over 90% of them. And the President of PETA advocates for killing all Pit Bulls. PETA is not an animal welfare organization, they’re a PR firm for PETA.

I read your sad story and raise you a pet duck (Puddles) and chicken (Chicken) that disappeared in the dead of night without a trace. Or so my parents said. I came home from my Nana and Grandpa’s house in Florida after 2 weeks of DisneyWorld, Six Gun Territory and Marineland to no duck and no chicken. They were there when I left. Perfectly happy. According to the people who were supposed to be taking care of them (Mom and Dad) They woke up one day and went out to the pen where they slept and they were just gone. No feathers, no sign of a struggle. Just gone. 30 something years later I still quiz them to see if their story sticks. Because I DON”T BELIEVE THEM. I’m expecting confessions on deathbeds re: Puddles and Chicken the real story. I mean really, how do a duck and a chicken disappear from your backyard in east bumble Virginia without even a feather left????

I’m also a magazine-carrying-member of Peta, and am glad to hear that you are, too (because I wasn’t so sure about your views on animals since you are from Texas and grew up in a family that apparently thinks it’s normal to torture and kill animals and then stuff them afterward). I just finished reading your book and I have to admit that it was really thoughtful that you put a warning in there for Peta members about what it means to clean a deer. I kept reading after that anyway because I’m insatiably curious, and then I threw up a little in my mouth when you explained more. Especially the part about wearing a deer sweater. And then I laughed. I swallowed the vomit first, though, so no worries.

When I was about six or seven my big brother gave me a little pink chick for Easter, much to my parents’ dismay. (Back then they sold them in various dyed colors.) My father carefully made a little slip style leash (a string about two feet long) to be tied around its ankle and I would “walk” it around the yard. After a week or two I accidentally put it back in its cage with the string still attached. I guess it thought it was a worm because when I next looked in the cage it had eaten it all the way down to where its mouth was against its ankle. Daddy had to very carefully and slowly pull that string out, inch by inch from that poor chick.

After that my parents insisted that it be “set free” to live a better life in the wilderness (the woods by the house). Poor baby. I think it’s because of stories like this that somebody made the stores quit selling them as Easter pets…

Props to David for not totally going off on you. I would seriously have lost my shit and called you every name for crazy, but then again, it takes one to know one. About halfway through your book – loving it! Daffodil will live always in our hearts.

Poor Daffodil. 😦 And I’m sorry to say that Schmalzie was a rooster, which means he probably picked you as a mate (seeing since you’re a card carrying PETA duck loving member) which is kind of sweet, if you think about it.
Oh Jenny, you’re such a cock magnet.

I think your story would have gone a bit differently if it had been a goose instead of a duck. They are not very nice.
~Dianna (5th or 6th person whose book you signed in Corte Madera <–that's the way I'm signing things now)
p.s. I like your hair short, it looks really cute.
p.p.s. I was wearing a white ruffled shirt that you said you liked. Since then I've been thinking that I should have told you I got it at Ann Taylor Loft.

I just finished your book today after a marathon all day reading session because it was so funny I couldn’t put it down. Especially funny was the story about the metal chicken. We have a large metal chicken right on the lot line in our own backyard. It’s there just for the cuteness factor. It’s definitely not there to irritate the neighbor woman who moved out to the country only to find she hated the sound of my daughters pet rooster, who had to go to a rescue! Nope, that gigantic metal rooster is there staring in her kitchen window to expose her to whimsical art.

Nina is right – PETA is NOT awesome. It’s true that 90% of animals that enter their care are euthanized. They’re radical freaks who do not have animals’s best interest at heart, despite what they claim. They wanted all of the rescued Michael Vick digs to be euthanized and not rehabitated. Research them further before you support them.

Hilarious exchange with PETA, although I’m not sure if he had a sense of humor or just didn’t get yours! Your book is waiting for me at home – cant wait to read it!

It seems like you never worry about offending people with your posts. How do you get over that mental hurdle? My boyfriend and I just had a HUGE fight because he says that I caused “unnecessary suffering” with my last post (listed below) about an angry man flipping me off for my love-the-world bumper stickers. He says I should have just realized the dude was having a bad day and moved on. But if I didn’t ponder about what happens to me in life, then I would have nothing to blog about!

Anyway, blogging about being flipped off for bumper stickers is much less potentially offensive to large groups of people than posting snarky letters to PETA (fucking hilarious, by the way – reminds me of David Byrne’s http://www.27bslash6.com/ which I’m sure you’ve read). So, do you just get to a point where you stop caring about offending people and write whateverthefuck you want?

If I ever run across a duck that can take down a homeless person I will totally bring that duck home and cater to its every whim. Mainly so I can have one of those yellow signs made for the front of my house that says “This Home Secured by:” and then have the silhouette of a duck. Then annoying people that come over would laugh and say “What a cute sign!” until Hercules (The duck’s name obviously) drew blood. That would kick ass.

Just FYI…I’m a member of PETA because a dead friend asked me to contribute. I’m a member of the ASPCA because they helped me when my dog ate a bottle of homeopathic drugs. I’m a member of the NRA because I live in Texas. I’m a member of the Democratic party in spite of it. I also support rogue taxidermy and I eat a lot of bacon. I’m a complicated person. I can’t explain it either.

My mom always wanted a goat as a pet. We lived in a small town in Alabama and so it was totally possible that she could have had one. Unfortunately, it never worked out but we DID have 15 cats at one point. Cat ladies. What a cliche!

David had no idea what he was getting into, which makes me wonder how he wound up contacting you at all. He would know there’s no reason to scare live ducklings for photos when the taxidermied ones dressed as vampire killers are so much better. Duh, David.

When I was little we had a snowshoe rabbit named Vanilla for several years before she went to the bunny farm where she would be happier in her old age. I was FIFTY-FIVE FRICKIN’ YEARS OLD when my mother finally confessed there was no bunny farm and she had Vanilla put down because the cruddy lumps on her ear turned out to be cancer and she was dying.

I must be some kind of moron because I honestly believed she had taken her to the farmer who had the corn stand on Bellmore Road. I was stunningly upset when she told me she put Vanilla down…not so much at her as at me for believing her!

At least you knew what happened to Daffodil! There’s got to be some comfort in that.

I’m strangely suspicious of these pictures now that every hipster and his brother is posting Instagram pictures. Sure, they LOOK old and genuine, but who knows? Maybe you found a young-Jenny lookalike and bribed your family to go along with the story just to make your book weirder than it already was.

The point is, kudos on the 70s-replica clothing. And condolences on the (real or imaginary) duck.

Ive decided to live on a strict diet of hobos for the next week in Daffodil’s honor. Thank the gods they aren’t very fast… and are easily tricked into friendship with shiney objects and promises of ducks. In fact, I just drove around in a white van with “Free Pets to Good Home. NOT FOR EATING” and those Fuckers came to me.

I joined PETA when I was a teenager and had a ginormous crush on a girl in my English class. I joined not-knowing what PETA was, and they were not pleased when I showed up to their Halloween Ball dressed as a pimp, in my mother’s fox coat.

This whole thing cracked me up! That poor unsuspecting man had no idea the kind of wit he was up against. I’m still waiting for the funds to be able to go and buy your book but, I promise you that I will own a copy!! Also, I’m sorry about your non-zombie PETA friend. That sucks. Not that she’s not a zombie but that she’s gone. Never fun. Hope you’re doing well, Jenny! *HUGS!*

I used to own 3 ducks as a child. A Rune (or mallard), a Penciled-Indian Runner, and a Peking Duck – which is what cute little (huge!) Daffodil was. I named mine Huey. But, I didn’t want to be all like “Huey, Duey and Luey”. That’s just lazy. No, they were Chipper, Hector, and Huey. They used to have run of our entire property in the woods we lived in. Huey was the first casualty. We don’t know what ate him (probably a homeless person). After Huey was eaten, we made them stay inside a fence. Good times.

This is the first time I’ve commented on this blog but I have to admit, I also just about peed my pants at the previous comment about the zombie friend and your answer.

Sorry ’bout poor Daffodil and you are amazing in how well you can lead someone along and they just don’t understand what or why they are following. Thank you for the laughs.

Someone just gave me a B&N gift card. Guess I can now buy your book! Or maybe I’ll read it at the library and buy it when it comes out in paper cuz for some reason my favorite book format is trade paper. Anyway, thanks for being so funny. I didn’t come see you when you were in Houston because you were down in the way west and I live up in the way NE in a suburb and the drive would have been killer. Next time come closer to the city center, or maybe up in the NE suburbs. 🙂

Princess got into the whole campaign when PETA tried to get everyone to call fish “sea kittens”. For about a week after she heard that, she asked for sea kittens every night for dinner. She was only nine at the time. I love that kid.

The bunny I had as a child was given to me after he was found on the side of the road shortly after Easter. He lived a very long, happy bunny life with my family and if any homeless folks had tried to eat him I am pretty sure I would have gone all “Kill Bill” on their ass. I am impressed by the fact that you don’t have lingering homeless-hating tendencies.

I totally love your pictures of Daffodil.
When I was about five I talked my Dad into letting me buy a chick at county fair. To be fair he got one for each of my siblings so we left with three. We took them home to our suburban neighborhood and my Daddy built a chicken coop in our backyard.
We were the only people with chickens on the whole block. I don’t think anyone in the neighborhood ever expected anyone to decide to have them as pets. Our neighbors were pretty cool with it until one of our chicks grew into a rooster and crowed, loudly and often, sometimes at 3 or 4 am. the neighbors stopped liking it after that and the rooster had to sleep in the garage where he would keep quiet. We actually recorded the chickens to use on our answering machine.
I really wish I could let my daughter raise a chicken or a duck in our backyard, but we have an HOA. It actually has a clause about ‘domestic livestock’… Maybe I’ll just have to settle with ‘wild livestock’ once I figure out the difference.
Liz

OMG, what is up with all the duck lovers? My husband still raves about his pet house duck from when he was a kid in Brazil, and wants me to get one for OUR kids. Yeah, RIGHT!! Because we all know who’s going to be picking up all the feathers and creamy poop and getting bit in the ass.

My mom had a pet rabbit when she was younger. One night at dinner (waaaaay before any of us kids were born), she asked her mother-in-law what they were eating. My grandma looked her in the eye and said, “Rabbit.” Yep, she cooked up Mom’s pet.

oh, jennythebloggess…. i so want to be you when i grow up, even though i suspect we are exactly the same age. tonight i watched the new muppets movie and then read my husband your blog. an evening of much giggling, and i don’t remember the last time i laughed that much. thank you , thank you, thank you!!!

I was a vegan for about two years… surprisingly I did *not* die, but then again, somehow I’ve ended up eating meat again. I don’t know how this happened, honestly. Mostly it was gradual – or at least that’s my story. I really hope PETA doesn’t read this and find out I consumed BBQ not just three hours ago. However I do take in stray animals when they cross my path. Does this make up for my lack of veganism in some Karmic sense? I think so.

I never had a pet duck named Daffodil (or a pet duck with any other name, even). However, my stepmother bought this stuffed duck (stuffed animal TOY duck–I had a childhood that was a vast wasteland and included absolutely zero taxidermy). This duck had a dowel attached to the inside of his head and poked out of what I assume was his ass (I skipped school the day duck anatomy was covered). If you twisted the dowel around, it made the duck’s head turn. My father startled visitors often with this maneuver. Come to think of it, maybe they got THAT duck so we wouldn’t insist of a real duck that made noise and shat all over the house …but at least it never got eaten by hobos. I’m really sorry about Daffodil…maybe she escaped via an unknown route?

I rescued a crow once that had a broken wing. I had to get to him while he squawked for all he was worth, while trapped behind some bushes in a corner of our yard. Only thing is, his squawking brought a bunch of other crows who then proceeded to divebomb me and beat me about the head with their wings when I tried to get too close. Crows are goddamn ingrates. The homeless are welcome to them.

Our neighbors had the coolest domestic mallard, he followed their black lab everywhere. They both spent an amazing amount of time down in our yard. One winter day I walked them both back home, with ice cleats on no less, since the road was a total sheet of ice. They used to pen the duck up at night for it’s own safety-well, that works with everything but a grizzly bear. That was the coolest duck in the world. Damn bear.

As an animal lover, I’m all about being a part of a special interest group that helps animals. But, yeah, FUCK PETA. Their “animals’ interests” stop at the slaughterhouse. If people aren’t eating them or wearing them, then they don’t give a damn.

Speaking of eating pigeon, I was served pigeon at a fancy-schmancy gala at a convention in France a weeks back. The leg had maybe two nibbles on it and the breast was wrapped in cabbage with some kind of greasy ground meat which seemed kinda weird.

Like you, I thought David meant a real baby for a moment. My brain takes a while to kick into gear so there were a few heart-stopping moment while I processed whether the baby fell off the roof and if so how did it survive.

I am a little obsessed by zombies, to the extent that I have even dreamt about zombie vampire babies but that is another story.

Loving your comment: “I support homeless people, ducks and their right to eat each other.” – have visions of homeless people eating other homeless people – after all, they have to be more filling than a mere duck, right?

Karen’s comment saying she wished she could hug a duck will be in my head all day “hug a duck” has such a cuddly ring to it….

My dad had a pet Turkey called Spot. She disappeared around Christmas time. That year they had a massive turkey for Christmas dinner. Quite the co-incidence…

Incidentally I am a vegan, and a Bloggess fan and do not find these things to be in any way mutually exclusive! I’m not, however, a PETA fan, and support the right of ducks to eat PETA staff. Or something like that.

My copy of the book finally came today and I put it down to give my stomach muscles a chance to rest from all the laughing–then promptly pulled up this site. Good plan, me.
I feel compelled to point out that PETA, last I heard, is actually against owning pets or domesticating animals in any way. I don’t like them for many other reasons, but those two seem the ones that should be important to most animal lovers. They aren’t so much about helping animals as trying to free them from the tyranny of mankind and being obnoxious. You’re better off supporting the SPCA or local groups if you really want to help animals.

OMG, my favorite part was the vegan diet part. I almost spit coffee all over the monitor reading that (and noting that coffee is apparently not vegan…). And then the cabbage thing — hysterical! I’m anti-PETA, because I have dogs and fish as pets and I won’t give them up. If PETA thinks my dogs aren’t being treated ethically, they are insane. I wish I could sleep on the couch all day and have people walk me, bathe me, and cook for me! Love your blog and the book! I haven’t finished it yet, but I read the bonus chapter anyway. That’s how I roll.

Well, I’ve just stopped laughing at your post (whilst shedding a tear for the late lamented daffodil obv.) Who knew that the homeless were so dangerous! Well…you, but who else?
Jenny I love you…will you be my new BFF please?
PS do you have to carry the PETA magazine at all times? Doesn’t that get a little onerous? OMG what do they do if you forget it..force feed you turnip blancmange or some other vegan gastronomical delight??

I’m sad to learn that you support PETA. Nothing they do helps animals – they only help their own lawyers push an agenda that preys on emotion and involves no science (or reality) whatsoever. The fact that this guy assumes that rabbits in silly Easter photos are “terrified” is just proof of his ignorance of actual animal behavior. (I own a rabbit, and he’s totally chill around kids and probably ducks too.) I also work in an animal research facility and have to deal with the PETA types on occasion. And I can tell you all first-hand that NOTHING we do can be considered anything close to “cruelty”. There are laws and regulations against it, not to mention that everyone who does what I do completely loves the animals. (And I TOTALLY want to take the monkeys home and have a dance-party-sleepover. Little-known fact: they, and I, LOVE marshmallows. And Coco Puffs.)
/End rant

I love coming over here and learning polysyllabic words like “addendum” and “vegan”.

My dad once caught a bird in front of this church that had been injured. He brought it home in a paper bag. Apparently, paper bags don’t making good living quarters for birds because the bird died and my dad left the paper bag with the bird still inside it by the mailboxes in their apartment complex. Because that’s the proper burial ritual for injured birds from church grounds.

Oh, reading this brings two stories to mind. The first one sort of involves PETA. My friends and me were going to a concert in New Orleans and found out that we could rent the Fur Bus to get to the venue. The Fur Bus is a party bus completely decked out in fur. It must be that synthetic stuff, because it feels like those fibers you don’t really want to touch in bright colors not found in nature, instead of real fur that feels like liquid silk and heaven. Regardless, we thought it would be awesome if we all dressed in fur with fur inspired names. We had Furnando, On Fur, Fur Free, Fur Sale, Furrocious, etc. I took it upon myself to contact PETA to request some decorating material. The idea was, we would wear NO FUR (Fur with the red circle crossed out) pins and stage fake protesters with signs outside of the Fur Bus while we were wearing all fur. Needless to say, the bus got booked by a stupid bachelorette party and we had to ride in a Taxi Van. However, we did still wear our costumes and our pins and looked incredible!
My second story, is the very tragic tale of the demise of my bunny, Peter Cottontail. A very mean child at my elementary school terrorized all of the children, especially me. (This is before bullying became a social issue instead of a rite of passage). He found out I had been given a live bunny for Easter and was incredibly jealous. Somehow this sick child knew that bunnies had curved spines. He told me my rabbit would do a neat trick if I put him on his back. I went home, left my sweet little albino bunny on his back, waited for the trick, got bored and left him. When you put bunnies on their backs they go into a “bunny trance.” They are totally paralyzed and seem dead. My Mom found him and thought he was a goner. To this day, I hope that Peter managed to climb his way out of the shallow grave, but I will never know.

I love the Daffodil story! In fact, when I got to that part of the book, I collected my children, and read it to them, aloud (that’s the only part of the book you can really read aloud to children, you know) through tears, because I was laughing so hard.

Now, when they are angry with our ill-behaved dog, they ask her if she wants to be set free to be eaten by transients. I don’t think I would let them do that. And, they didn’t take away the exact message I was hoping they would take away.

So I just have to say, I worked one Easter at a predominantly children’s portrait studio where we used bunnies in our sessions. We took very good care of the bunnies and we all loved them. They were very well cared for and we gave them shifts so that they always had plenty of time to rest. We were all trained to watch for signs of stress and would retire them for the day at any sign of stress or upset.

We also NEVER would let them go into the wild or abandon them. Some trusted employees adopted two of the bunnies after Easter. We also let families coming in for portraits fill out adoption applications if they were especially enthusiastic about the bunnies. We reviewed these application carefully and ended up giving the bunnies to a family the portrait studio had known for a long time and knew was reliable and could care properly for the bunnies.

We got several complains from PETA people claiming we were misusing the bunnies and didn’t care for them. This was especially hurtful because I am such a huge animal person and loved those bunnies dearly.

Just needed to go on the record and make that known! I guess I can’t speak for all portrait studios, but we certainly cared for and treasured our bunnies. Or as I called them, “little bun-buns.”

Our family was the anti-PETA in that my parents and grandparents were farmers in the old country. Once, for a holiday, we kids went down to the fully finished basement to find . . . a chicken running around. Which my grandmother then killed. For the big holiday dinner.

I’m sure David never answered you again because the thought of you publicly posting something he’d written in the ‘just-another-human’ style of communicating, (as opposed to the ‘I’m the head muckity-muck of this big-ass organization’) worried him. Only robots are promoted. People? Not so much.

What happy memories you have restored to me. I remember the Easter I received two chicks and two ducklings (two pink, two blue). They were Mickey and Minnie and Daisy and Donald. Mickey and Minnie were mean as owl shit (I seem to be using that phrase a lot lately) and soon were banished to a friend’s farm to live free and happy – we celebrated that happy news with chicken and dumplings for dinner!! Yum!! Daisy and Donald wandered around in the back yard for several years until they were moved to my Aunt Lear’s farm, where the fox promptly got them. She was happy because he did not eat her chickens instead. I miss those ducks. By the way, I am moving to a house on Woodchuck Lane and am looking for an inexpensive woodchuck. They are higher than owl shit (see?) on Ebay. Let me know if you see one cheap somewhere. A little mold or fungus is ok.

PETA would be awesome if they only focused on genuine animal abuse. Eating animals is not abusing them. I mean, the animal is dead. How do you hurt a dead animal? You can’t.

You know, I’m an animal too. I also deserve a species-appropriate diet. And scientists have found butchering and hunting implements in human encampments dating back over 500,000 years ago. That’s an awfully long time for meat to have been inappropriate.

I prefer to put my energies toward animal-welfare groups that aren’t bats?!t insane, or trying to kill me through malnutrition.

You’re hilarious, but you know that; so onto more serious stuff. I beg all you magazine carrying PETA & HSUS members to STOP. If you want to help animals, directly support your local animal shelter. What I would really like to see is some correspondence with the conservation biologists and the “Pleistocene Rewilding” people – http://www.rewilding.org/pleistocene_rewilding.html

My siblings and I all had pet ducks as children. My mom built them a pond and they lived in our fenced-in garden quite happily for several years, eating bugs and duck feed. Until, that is, our redneck neighbor’s miscreant children decided to shoot them all to death one night. I don’t know what happened to those kids, but I hope it was a fate worse and more prolonged than my duck’s.

PETA is great and all but perhaps you should consider joining PETHP? People for the Ethical Treatment of Homeless People? It might give you a better understanding into their apparent desire to consume your pets. I’m all for educating oneself. 🙂

My grandparents got my aunt a pair of Easter ducks when she was little and raised them until they were full-grown; then they got to go live in the local pond. One was black and the other was white, and they were named Spick and Span.

While they still had the ducks–this was in Baltimore, in the 1970s–one of the neighbors asked why one was white and the other was black. My grandfather told the neighbor it was because of integration; if they had a white duck, they were required to have a black one. The neighbor believed him.

Of course, my grandfather was a master of taking the piss out of someone with a totally straight face. When my grandparents were on an ElderHostel tour of a bunch of National Parks, my grandfather also convinced a woman on the tour that Richard Nixon and Spiro Agnew were being carved into Mount Rushmore.

As a woman who lives with ducks and chickens (and by live with I mean there are a few hard-luck cases hangin with us in the basement) I love your awesome story about your duck and shoulder-chicken! (Except the part where your duck got eaten. That part sucked.)

I love you. Let’s start with that. But your supporting PETA is very disturbing. PETA is an awful organization that ultimately is for the elimination of ALL PETS. People think they are for animals, but as you read their actual information, you discover the darker side. I am not going to bother to give you links and info– you are intelligent enough (superbly so) to find your own. Donate to a local shelter, find a rescue, but please do NOT give a single penny to PETA.

My neighbor and best friend once got a duck for Easter, so we named him “Jesus” of course. Jesus would follow us around the neighborhood like a dog, and once when it was really hot, he burned his webbed feet on the asphalt. He recovered and learned to walk on the grass instead of the street, which was probably wise for a duck living in metropolitan Atlanta.

When I was a little girl my parents got us bunny rabbits for Easter. I named mine Ernie and my brother named his Peter (after Peter Cottontail). Just as PETA feared, our bunnies quickly became passe and were relagated to some unused section of the backyard. We lived in Arizona at the time, so by “backyard” I mean “arid tundra”. One day my Mom forgot to cover one of the cages before we left for a few hours. So we came home we discovered that little Ernie had literally been fried alive in the sweltering Arizona sun. I’m not sure what happened to Peter, I can only assume that, out of guilt for murdering his brother, my Mom sent him to some posh retirement home for traumatized bunnies. At four years old my mother accidentally cooked my Easter rabbit on the back porch, and I turned out just fine. PETA is dumb. Get your kids a bunny for Easter!

I’ve never been homeless, but I have eaten duck and I can tell you that properly prepared it can be quite tasty. Best I ever had was in Paris, for lunch,at a tiny restaurant. For years, if not to this day, it was the best meal I had had, ever.

The recipe isn’t that difficult, but it does require some wine and brandy, and possibly those do not long reside in the homeless person’s larder, perhaps put to other uses.

I am sorry about Daffodil, and hope that she is having a happy life in the next world, running around nibbling at the heels of former homeless people now residing in the heavens, and that she has her own pool in the shape of a big vinyl cloud.

Over the weekend I carried a duck that looked just like Daffodil from her cage to her kiddie pool. She seemed to enjoy the pool. She scratched me ever so slightly and 2 hours later i broke out in hives. Though, I blame the hives on a possible food allergy, and we didn’t eat the duck.

Daffodil was lucky to have you as her mom. I’m. Sure she knew that… Though considering her later fate you might want to watch your back for a possible suck curse.

Peta would totally hate me. I have a dog and sometimes I just use him to keep my feet warm, and also sometimes I yell at him to stop breathing on me (because, ew, it’s stinky, and humid!). But I like it that he does breathe, and I pet him and take him to the doctor when he’s sick, and generally I think he’s the best. But I wish more PETA people were like David so I wouldn’t be afraid of telling them that I have pets!

This post is hilarious, especially the idea of the convent movie starring Valerie Bertinelli, and I have nothing to add about PETA… BUT: You know who I feel sorry for? JENKINS. Yes, homeless people shouldn’t have eaten Daffodil, because that’s just wrong, but a jumbo quail ( or not ) who was also a TEACHER should have been spared the same fate. Ok, so he was a menace, but still.
Also? That story kept my husband and two kids laughing for days. I didn’t tell them Jenkin’s fate, however.

Will you not freaking post this stuff when I am supposed to be working on contracts? I keep snorting and choking back laughter. It sounds like I am strangling myself. I tell people it is allergies.
It can’t be as simple as not reading your Blog when I am supposed to be working.

I had a pet duck when I was little. His name was Peter until he/she started laying eggs. Then she was Petrina. She used to follow me everywhere. My children were also given a rabbit one Easter by their loving grandmother and the bunny lived nine years. Boy were we good bunny parents!

I’ve always shied away from ordering duck at the local Chinese food place. Seemed too fancy for me. But damn if the homeless aren’t tearin’ it up. I might have to put my fancy pants on and give it a try next time.
Poor daffodil (one of the funniest/oddest stories I’ve ever heard though).

See, now I’m totally glad that I finished your book last week, because now I can totally say I went into this post with an in on the story. I’m pretty sure zombies kidnapped David then forced him to eat a pigeon.

If I had an attack waterfowl I would name it Cluck Norris. But I don’t and I am afraid of things with wings. I am trying to get a license for a monkey, however, but Massachusetts has very strict laws around primates. Apparently they must be for “educational or medical purposes”. Neither my self-diagnosed mental-illness nor my need for the monkey to fling poop at people when they upset me (thus TEACHING them a lesson) seems to qualify.

As a fellow former duck owner, I understand. Although my duck was eaten by coyotes rather than homeless people. There weren’t any homeless people in Mississippi in the late 70’s, apparently. Maybe there were and the coyotes were just quicker on the draw. It’s hard to say.

There’s a corner on my way to work where lots of homeless people hang out. It’s a very busy intersection and one day a homeless guy was directing traffic to let some geese cross the street safely. He was telling them to hurry up and shooing them across the street. At the time I thought it was sweet. Now I know he was rounding them up for a feast.

Fun fact: Ducks (and other water fowl) are the only birds that have penises. They mate by raping female ducks. Their penises are curly, and can erect in less than a second. Female ducks have evolved a many-canaled vagina to deter rape from male ducks.

When I was in Palm Springs a few months ago, a homeless man approached me while I was out walking in the morning and asked if I knew where he could find the nearest health food store. At the time I thought the dude was being a little picky with the food choices considering his circumstances, but now I’m thinking he was one of David’s converted minions. Maybe not a bad thing, since vegan homeless men are much less likely to become zombies, I’m guessing. David: saving us all from the zombie apocalypse!

I wonder if DAvid was the same PETA person who wrote a letter to a local newspaper complaining that the state raptor rehabilitation center was so, so guilty for releasing rehabilitated owls and hawks back into the wild before teaching them all to be vegetarians (or maybe vegans.) He probably hasn’t yet met your Juanita, either…

i am so disappointed to hear you promoting PETA. I know you’re also kinda laughing at (with?) them, but PETA is just a crazy nutjob dangerous organization that does far more harm to animals than good. I love you Jenny and now I kind of want to stop reading your blog. And that makes me sad.

PETA sounds like a good cause (of course we should treat animals ethically) but they are really very, very bad for animals.

They are extremists – they believe in animal liberation – no more pets for anyone. Ingrid Newkirk is the president and co-founder and she wrote a book called “Free the Animals! The Untold Story of the U.S. Animal Liberation Front and Its Founder, ‘Valerie.’”

Bummer that he got eaten by the homeless people before he could respond to your question. When I walk around the city, I always carry a pigeon and a fifth of vodka with me. That way if the homeless try to eat me, I throw the pigeon and vodka at them. That usually distracts them long enough for me to escape. Bonus: if no homeless attack me by the end of the day, I celebrate with the vodka and free the pigeon during a pigeon-freeing ceremony.

It is so amazing to me how you are able to baffle most of the minion workers at PETA, or a telemarketing firm, or some other such establishment, and tell them one of your wonderful life stories in such a manner as to completely lose them and make them look foolish or useless in most cases… You are a gifted individual. On a side note, I love the homeless except for the duck eating kind… My dad was homeless for a week or two in Las Vegas something to do with loosing his job, drinking himself into a stupor and gambling away his last paycheck… Now I must give money to homeless old men with short hair when I see them, (maybe that helps keep them from eating other children’s ducks) either way it makes me feel better after all he could be someones father. Love you Jenny love your stories thank you for being in this world you make it a much more entertaining place!!!

Just to let you know, when eating a pigeon, it is known as squab. And it’s considered some kind of high-priced, fancy meal served only at high-end restaurants. So if those homeless people had some pigeon, they’d be on the same level as patrons at 21 in New York City. Growing up on a farm, we had lots of wild pigeons in the barn who would crap all over the hay and straw meant for the farm animals (and pigeons spread disease in their feces). So we had Italian neighbors who would come over and shoot them by the dozens. Put some buckshot holes in the barn roof and embedded in the wall boards but it kept the pigeon population under control. Personally, you couldn’t pay me to eat a pigeon. Yuck!

I once tried to give my food leftovers from a very nice upscale restaurant to a homeless guy (appeared to be). as he was standing outside the restaurant and he refused it! I later thought maybe he wasn’t homeless but just looked the part.

When we were kids we had ducks. My little brother was so skinny that regular pants fell down, so he had to wear bib overalls. He would often walk around with a duck in the front of his pants – with its head sticking out above the bib part, just under my brother’s chin.

Cute story, right? Except that also meant my little brother spent long days with duck shit in the front of his pants. All of his underwear had shit stains. On the front. Right on the Hulk’s face.

My mother had a pet duck called Lucky,who had the habit of digging up the neighbors’ gardens. It was determined that Lucky (and the neighbors) would be happier if he was re-homed, so my grandmother took him over to a farm witha duck pond and let him join his kin. She also brought home a chicken for dinner that night. HOW THOUGHTFUL.

My grandmother didn’t reveal that they had in fact eaten the duck until, get this, my mother’s wedding day. That’s Klassy with a big K, folks.

After I stopped roaring with laughter…here is my comment. You are the bestest! I had a bunny as a kid that the neighborhood stray cats ate. I never knew how they managed it, as the hutch was locked and nothing was breached??? I believe my unassuming Bun Bun, was curious about the cats and they waited until she came close to the wire and they cut her throat. I can not prove this, but finding a Bunny with a gaping hole where her bunny neck should have been and a smug looking cat is enough. Now, on to my Duck. His name was Peep peep. We had great fun together and he went to live in a neighbors cow pond. My brother and I would visit him often and played chase in the duck dung. Which, by the way displeased my Mother greatly! (the duck dung not the chase.) I also had a goat named Nanny. Oh the joys of childhood.

@TheBloggess so I guess now would not be a good time about my dad, a goose named Toodlets, the United States Navy, Jack Daniels, a rooster colloquially named ShutUpYouAsshole, and our neighbor whose name was Jerry Outlaw…

So growing up I had bunnies and a guinea pig, although not at the same time because that would be too much. Wilbur was the guinea pig and he used to love it when I dressed him in my Cabbage Patch’s dresses. My mom has a picture of me and Wilbur on my first day of 1st grade, and we are wearing matching dresses.
Yes, my male guinea pig enjoyed wearing dresses in the early 1980s. He was very progressive.
And before I read today’s post (and my face still hurts from laughing!!) I was wondering why my 8-year-old German Shepherd mix is afraid of homeless people. Now I feel bad for calling her a snob and trying to encourage her to broaden her horizons. I just got schooled by a dog named Beans.

My sister and her family have had chickens off and on over the years. But the very first time they raised them, there was a particularly nasty rooster that my (then 3-year-old) nephew had named Stinky. The time came when Stinky just had to be gotten rid of, so my sister was going to give him away to some other unsuspecting family. But my nephew had a complete meltdown (of the sort that only 3-year-olds can achieve) and insisted that if Stinky had to go away, he wanted to EAT HIM. My sister had to promise that, yes, they would eat Stinky before he would calm down. Then she told him that they had to take Stinky to the butcher to have him killed and plucked and ready for cooking…giving herself a way to get Stinky out of the house, give him to the other people as planned, then run to the grocery store and pick up a roasting chicken to bring home for dinner. Apparently “Stinky” was very tasty. XD

I’m reading your book now and can totally relate to sooo many of your stories, especially Daffodil… Except, subtract the duck in east Texas and replace with a pet quail (er, I mean turkey) in the bayou of south Louisana. Our pet turkey, George, “bought the farm” shortly before Thanksgiving one year… If I wasn’t 10 and overwhelmingly obsessed with Corey Haim at the time, I might have put two and two together in time to fast before turkey day…. I wasn’t even homeless, and I’m sad to say? I quite enjoyed George before I knew I was eating George. Wondering how common a problem this is, wondering if we should start a support group?? Much love, Polly (no longer in the bayou, currently residing Texas)

So, what did you think of San Angelo?
I’m from there. I basically hate it.
Love my family and staying out on our land just outside of Angelo, but I generally hate the town.
Oh, and as a P.S. I bet they eat ducks… just sayin

Your all in my head, (or I’m in yours since you wrote this – but I didn’t know – before I wrote mine) because I wrote at Easter about our club “Banning The Colored Chicks” and I wrote today about the (Mudder Fruckin’) Canada Goose my boys “saved” last night. You are great and thanks for (not) copying me. It is flattering. Your like “THE Bloggess.

Somehow Amazon sent me a duplicate copy of your fabulous book, so I’m giving it to my sister who’s graduating from vet school on Friday. I told her there were a bunch of dead animals in it, so I thought it was fitting. I can’t wait for her to enjoy it as much as I did. All hail Queen Jenny!

I want to know more about David’s Vegan Nachos. I mean, there are a few vegan cheese choices, but I don’t know how they would fare on Nachos. David should explain what type of cheese he uses on his Nachos.

My mom had ducks on her farm for a while, but they kept mysteriously disappearing during the night. No one really knows what took them, so I think you should be thankful that you at least know what happened to your duck and know that it’s in duck heaven right now instead of dwelling on the fact that Hobos ate it. AT LEAST YOU HAVE CLOSURE JENNY. GOD.

My husband was an extra in a tv movie starring Valerie Bertinelli! The movie was “Pancho Barnes,” and Ms. Bertinelli played a woman who left an arranged marriage to become a famous pilot. My husband was a kid and played a choir boy. No ducks were harmed in the making of “Pancho Barnes.”

You laugh at this but I was once homeless for 2 hours and let me tell you, the craving to eat people’s pets was nigh unendurable. Luckily I wasn’t very good at it and only managed to taste a few of them before they wisely escaped my homeless-driven-hunger. Also luckily, after 2 hours my condo was finished and I once more had a home. But it was touch and go for a long 120 minutes…

What’s with all the people who have to save up for your book? It’s less than $13 on Amazon! I would’ve paid $50 in a heartbeat. Not that you should charge $50 for your next book, because I’m using the extra $37 to buy my coffee at Starbucks each morning while I read your book 🙂 Good stuff!

I have no skin in the game with PETA one way or the other. I don’t want animals to suffer. I also consume animals and animal products. However, I hate Hate HATE corporate propaganda and disinformation campaigns.

Here is what petakillsanimals.com says about itself:
“PETA Kills Animals is a project of the Center for Consumer Freedom (CCF), a nonprofit organization dedicated to protecting the full range of choices that American consumers currently enjoy.”

And what is CCF?
Here’s what CCF says:
“Founded in 1996, the Center for Consumer Freedom is a nonprofit organization devoted to promoting personal responsibility and protecting consumer choices.”

Hmm, those words — freedom, personal responsibility, consumer choice — they sound kind of suspect to me. I wonder what the internet has to say about CCF?

“The Center for Consumer Freedom (CCF), formerly the Guest Choice Network, is an American non-profit firm that lobbies on behalf of the fast food, meat, alcohol and tobacco industries.”

“CCF was set up in 1995 by Richard Berman, executive director of the public affairs firm Berman and Company, with $600,000 from the Philip Morris tobacco company to fight smoking curbs in restaurants.”

Ah yes, the fast food, tobacco, and alcohol industries: those staunch defenders of freedom and the people’s first choice when it comes to protecting consumers and getting to the truth of the matter.

tk, please educate yourself on how greed is the most immoral force in the universe and it is at the very heart of what drives many corporations.

Hi Jenny, I just found your blog and I am just writing to tell you that I will be your new best friend. I am in the middle of some other stuff right now, so I don’t have the time to fully launch my your-new-bff campaign right now, but not to worry, I will get on it pretty soon. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know. By the way, I have always (by always, I mean since I went to the Natural History Museum a month ago) wanted a taxidermized animal. I am leaning more in the way of a large feline, maybe a leopard or an ocelot, but your small, dress-up-able taxidermized critters are all kinds of awesome. You are the only person I know of who has taxidermized animals, strange, right?

when i was 6, i got to take home a chicken that was one of several that we hatched in school, his name was Nicholas Alexander, Nikki for short, and he was made of pure awesomenss. Then he went to live on a farm and was eaten by other carnivorous chickens, so i feel your pain.

My husband had a duck when he was a kid. He lived in Wyoming where it gets really cold. One winter he went down to feed the chickens, and found the duck had stayed on the creek while the water froze around him. His legs were both stuck in the ice. So my husband used a hatchet to cut off his feet. He said the duck was fine after that and could still swim and everything, so it’s really a happy story.

I’m a little put off by David’s lack of interest after the *counts back up* fifth exchange. Not that I’m doubting your suspicions. I’m sure he probably did end up in a hobo-smorgasbord or something similar. 😉

I can’t decide if David was too fruity to understand the conversation or if he was just going along with you. In either case, that is comedy gold. Also, I am a gluten-free (because of celiac…not fruity-ness) vegan and I eat like a queen. If you’re ever in town, send me an email and I will have you over for an amazing dinner with no cabbage (on account of the farting). Also, I hate PETA and I think they give caring for animals and vegetarians a bad name. They seriously lie to people and wanted to rename fish “sea-kittens”. I couldn’t make this shit up. It’s on their website. It’s funny as hell, but they’re serious. So, I decided that I was renaming cockroaches so no one would kill them (being living creatures who probably have feelings like all of those fish), “Kitchen Puppies”! There, I said it!

Oh my god, thank you so much for recognizing that he found a baby at the bottom of a building. If you had let that slide, I might have had to unfollow your blog and lose respect for you. Fortunately, you responded appropriately, and I can continue in my wish to be you when I grow up.

Based on the two photos of Daffodil — young duck in pool, large duck being embraced by Jenny — I can only conclude that, a few years later, that duck had grown ever more, to the size of an average elephant. Is this so?

I too had pet ducks. 4 of them actually, which is fairly odd given that we lived in the suburbs. We named them Bart, Peanut, Donald, and Miller (my dad’s favorite beer at the time). It was the 80s. They were awesome and totally ate lettuce and spaghetti. They met their unfortunate demise at the hands of a fairly ferocious raccoon. I cried for days. I totally get how you feel about Daffodil. (hugs)

At least you didn’t end up eating your own pet. When I was four, my grandparents got a rabbit and kept it in a hutch in the yard all summer. I decided he was my pet visited him every time we came to see my grandparents. One weekend he was gone and they told me he ran away. That Sunday we had rabbit for dinner.

well, as they say “sometimes it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission,” or something like that, sorry I’m a colloquilism serial killer. (yay for adult ADHD!)

I didn’t read your book, however, I did listen to it. And I gotta hand it to you, it’s quite a work of art, cause I have listened to parts of it more than once AND I’ve even forced a couple of my co workers to listen to choice bits of it. (giggle-snorting at a your desk, in a rat maze, tends to attract attention from coworkers) Btw, this is a HUGE compliment from a woman who NEVER reads books more than once, unless it’s a summer school assignment, and even then I only half read it.

I’m personally not a fan of PETA, but that’s my own personal opinion being an Animal Sciences major and being informed on all genres of animal welfare/rights issues. I am, however, a fan of you, which way less of a sticky subject to talk about.

Also, way to bring up the use of “baby” he used. Total anthropomorphism. One of my biggest pet peeves. You rock for poking fun at PETA in a fun, harmless way.

I thought the chicken’s name was Schnitzel-Nugget, and that, Jenny Lawson? That’s some funny shit. (Speaking of which, why didn’t S-N poop all over you? We have chickens — hate them– and they are shit-machines.

Thanks for the “extra chapter” to your book, Let’s Pretend this Never Happened. This was the funniest book I’ve read, maybe ever. If you read it in bed, you know you’ll have good dreams when you giggle just before you go to sleep! Thanks, Jenny!

In the early 1940s, LIFE magazine reported that a woman named Mrs. Mark Bullis of Washington, D.C., had adopted a squirrel “before his eyes were open, when his mother died and left him in a tree” in the Bullis’ back yard.

“Most squirrels,” LIFE noted (with a striking lack of evidence), “are lively and inquisitive animals who like to do tricks when they have an audience.” They do? At any rate, LIFE went on to observe that the squirrel, dubbed Tommy Tucker by the Bullis family, “is a very subdued little animal who has never had a chance to jump around in a big tree.”

“Mrs. Bullis’ main interest in Tommy,” LIFE continued, “is in dressing him up in 30 specially made costumes. Tommy has a coat and hat for going to market, a silk pleated dress for company, a Red Cross uniform for visiting the hospital.”

And so it begins … a series of at-once touching and creepy photographs by LIFE’s Nina Leen, chronicling the quiet adventures and sartorial splendor of one Tommy the squirrel.

“Tommy never seems to complain,” LIFE concluded, “although sometimes he bites Mrs. Bullis. Mrs. Bullis never complains about being bitten.” And as the saying goes: Who would listen to her, anyway, if she did?

I had two pet parakeets and two cats, probably not a good combination. One cat would climb up on the recliner and fling herself at the birdcage. Apparently one day she managed to get the door open (Carol, it can happen! Angst!) and one of the dumbass birds flew out ~ if she had stayed in the cage, she would have been safe as it was quite high and the cat couldn’t fit through the door. I came home to find a dead bird with a bite taken out of her. Guess she wasn’t as tasty as she looked from afar.

Then the boy bird was desolate and despondent and other things that begin with des- and was sick and huddled up all sad. So I put him in a shoebox with a little shot glass full of water and one of birdseed and put it in the bathroom (the only room with a door). The next morning I found a dead bird floating in the toilet. Oops.

What I don’t get is why any of these people would ever reply to your messages with anything except, “Dear Jenny, You are most awesome. Your friend, David (for instance).” Anything else is just asking for trouble. Not to mention neglecting the obvious.

I also had an Easter duck as a child. We let him go at the golf course lake when he got to be about Daffodil’s size. (See figure 1.) They didn’t allow homeless people, so I assume he was eventually killed by an angry (or hungry) golfer.

I variated between crying and laughing while reading this, which can potentially mean the following:
a) I should join Peta
b) I have PMS
c) I have had a shitty day and your Daffodil story was the straw that broke the tearducks back

I couldn’t stop laughing reading this post. I did note that David’s replies got shorter and shorter as the convo went on, probably equivalent to slowly backing away during a face-to-face. I should try something like this with the Jesus people (I do remember that they are Jehovah’s Witnesses but my son calls them “Jesus peoples) who keep coming to my door trying to convert me.

We once had a duck that shared a cage with a rabbit. There was a hole in the wire netting that made the floor of the cage (it was wire netting so that the rabbit could eat the grass through it) and sometimes the rabbit would dig an escape tunnel through the hole in the wire netting and get out. Whereupon the duck would quack incessantly until the rabbit was caught and returned. I don’t think the rabbit liked the duck as much as the duck liked the rabbit.

I’m a card carrying Beyonce the giant metal chicken fan club member. I took one of those print outs, and laminated it – fashioning a lovely card suitable for keeping in one’s wallet. Among other things, the card entitles the bearer to purchase any giant metal chicken he/she comes across if that is his/her desire. No matter what her husband has to say about it. I haven’t yet asserted those rights, but one day… One day…

In agreement with several people above, contribute to ASPCA or some other group with less controversy and more care towards animals. PETA has a history of preferring to put down animals than finding homes for them. They’re too focused on causing social damage to be empathic.

Yeahhhh… PETA and HSUS are against pet ownership, and having animals around whatsoever. And have a very big tendency to jump into situations, “save” critters, and dump them on organizations that don’t have the funds to care for them. And kill far, far more than they help…wait…do they help any? Oh, and are lobbyists, not rescue.

His ego must be sore after all that stroking he gave it. I mean, just, ouch.

Also, I think it’s silly for anyone to get mad at you for supporting PETA. You are not PETA and we don’t know your reasons for supporting them. We don’t know everything about anyone and I, for one, don’t pretend to have the final judgement on a person because of an affiliation. It isn’t like you said you are a Nazi or that you spend rainy afternoons making love to banana slugs, in which case, we might all have to think twice about you. 😉 I think everyone needs a cup of tea. Honey and milk anyone? Love you Jenny.

Also, vegan nachos…what part of that is confusing? You need chips, beans, maybe some olives and jalapenos, and some onions perhaps, right? Those are vegan. You need a cheesy good substance to bring the chips around to marry all of the yummy things and maybe (if you’re splurging) some kind of cooling sour-cream like substance to cream it up and excite the taste buds. Ohh, and then there’s the yummy salsa. So, the issue lies with the cheesy goodness and the sour cream. I am vegan, but I also happen to be HIGHLY reactive to dairy and could not eat it even if I wanted to. I also have occasional wild mood swings about once a month which attach to my serious menstrual migraine disease. Anyone who wants to deny me the pleasure of enjoying my super awesome vegan nachos with cashew-cheese, and tofu-sourcream (all homemade…not full of artificial crap from the store) can step right up… Why do I sound defensive? Because, it justg so happens that all too commonly, the nay-sayers like to bad-mouth and wrongly question the validity of my food. And I will get just as defensive about my healthy food as they will to anyone that suggests that they put down their disease laden burger. (And just so you know, in case you were confused, you should read all of this and giggle wholeheartedly. That’s what I am doing right now. Now, you’ll excuse me while I go eat my vegan breakfast of gluten-free oatmeal.) (I also have celiac disease…it’s all fun at my house! But, we eat like royalty. You are all invited. I like to cook for people.) ❤ and kisses

Also, that’s a duck, not a goose. Look at the shape of the beak, length of the neck, and how small the girl is compared to the animal. Google images will clear that right up if nothing else does. Also, I have been attacked by white geese (three of them at the same time) Geese are HUGE. And they are brutal. That is a well-behaved duck.

I just found your blog and this post. Let me say that the last week I’ve been with my mom who just found out she has lung cancer. We have our dysfunctions, and it’s been rough … Asi looked for inspiring books to download I found you and the tragedy of Daffodil and those that would try to save her murderers with vegan supplements. Im not sure how I laughed so much without choking. You’re a hoot and I’m taking your blog and book with me into my next week!

We all know that PETA is evil, right? They kill almost every animal that comes into contact with them. Google that shit, the stats & rock solid evidence are out there. They are run by an insane woman and their goal is to eradicate not just pets but also the human species. PETA doesn’t save animals, they kill them to push their own agenda of giving the planet back to itself. If you like your pets and want the US to be a better place for them, don’t support PETA. Also, when you donate to the Humane Society of the US or the ASPCA – none of that money goes to your local HSUS or ASPCA. Please donate directly to your local animal rescue groups & pet food pantries so the money works at home, for your neighbors.

So, having your photo taken with a rabbit at Easter is cruel and unusual punishment to the rabbit because it makes them miserable and scared….However, chasing a bird into five lanes of traffic isn’t cruel and unusual punishment? Okay. I guess that goes along the lines of DON’T save the baby polar bear by putting him in a rescue unit or zoo, let the beast die in the wilderness of starvation or let him be eaten by a predator. But by goodness don’t put your rabbit out after Easter to be eaten by a predator! Or a homeless person, who I am now afraid of and will always think of them as man-made predators.

My duck’s name was Tim – and he was a good duck. Two years ago this past March when he was almost 7 a raccoon crawled up at least 12ft onto our deck (where Tim spent his days and had his pool) and killed him. What does PETA have to say about that??? I used to like raccoons, not so much anymore.

“Those homeless people were probably just too weak from hunger to go after even a wounded bird. Weak and gassy. That’s a terrible combination.”

This made me laugh so hard I had to cover my mouth to keep from waking people in the house. If I had had a stuffed duck I would have shoved him in my mouth, but alas, I am without one, so my hand had to work.

when i was 4 and everything was not a ‘social issue’ i received a baby duck for Easter. a year and a half later, by the time Bucky thought he was a poodle, my parents moved us to the suburbs and decided they didn’t want duck crap all over their very nice newish 70s patio. so we loaded the duck into the car with a bow tied on his neck and drove him over to the forest preserve nature center where we “dropped off” Bucky with me sobbing the entire time. My mother assured me he wanted to play with other ducks. I am sure now that he just hopped in the next car that came by and was someones dinner. Rip Bucky and Daffodil

btw-kudos to you for airing your issues-it’s only with people discussing that it’s OK to be in therapy will we remove the stigma surrounding mental illness and mood disorders –that’s why I chair the AFSP walk for suicide prevention every year. (see us at http://chicagowalk.org) and also thank you for writing this book, as I pee in my pants laff out loud while trying to read it through my laughter tears…you are just what I needed in my life right now.

Loved your Daffodil duck story and pix! Ducks make awesome pets. When I was about 12 we had a mother duck hatch a nest of babies. She kept kicking the little weird looking one out of the nest. Clearly, something was wrong with it. Also, it couldn’t walk. I brought it inside and nursed it back to health and even taught it to walk. I soon discovered that “Sammy” couldn’t swim so I made him a boat out of popsicle sticks….the SS Sammy. That duck floated around in his boat while the other ducks swam. I swear I’m not making any of this up. Later, my mom got sick of them shitting all over the back porch so my Dad gave them all, including Sammy, to some crazy looking guy. He probably ate them. I bet he was homeless.

Jenny,
When I was a kid, I got a baby chick for Easter one year. I kept it in a box in my room. I ran out of bird food and it took me a few days to scrounge up 78 cents to go buy some more. I filled up a hairspray lid full of food for my chick and went to bed. Next morning, there was my chick, lying on its side, dead. It’s stomach was so bloated with food, and I could see through its skin that it had swallowed one of my brothers silver bb’s that went to some toy. I never knew if it ate itself to death or if it was the bb. Oh well, at least it didn’t grow up to be eaten by the homeless people, or any people for that matter. It had one whole week of a good life.
Yours truly,
Reneebird

Jenny,
You were so right about that cabbage/air diet. I tried that once and it was the worst stuff I ever ate. I threw it all out. I read that this couple lost a bunch of weight eating the cabbage crap. No wonder, that stuff will go right through you! They may have lost a lot of weight, but I bet they lost all of their friends, too.
Renee

I love all of your posts. No matter what kind of day I had, I know that I can read any of your posts and be laughing by the end. This one reminds me so much of David Thorne (another favorite). Keep it up.

Most of your stories have my husband rolling his eyes because they are things he could see me doing. I LOVE it!

Peta is working hard to give animals a much better place in the planet, it is wonderful how these people work so hard for the animals cause. It surely does cool to be part of your book, such a great opportunity to anyone.